Second Dawn
by Yami no Kokoro
Summary: Post AWE. Elizabeth's failing health leads her eighteen year old son out on a quest he had never hoped to undertake, stepping into the world of pirates in search of a way to save his estranged father from the curse of the Flying Dutchman.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own this story idea, the characters and objects not shown in the movies, and the personality of William Turner III. Nothing else is mine.

**Second Dawn**

By Yami no Kokoro

Chapter One

The small town of Tortuga was in far worse repair than he had imagined. He'd heard stories upon stories featuring this place, from his uncle and his group of friends, but in those tales all of the grease, grime, and drunkenness had always possessed a sort of romanticized glow. It was a place where adventures were born.

Now that he was actually there, though, the whole town just seemed sort of... dirty.

A tall woman in a gaudy red dress that barely covered her voluminous chest accosted him as soon as he stepped off of the pier. Her goldenrod hair was curled into tight, unnatural ringlets and her pale face was covered in rouge.

Giggling, dramatically waving a fan in front of her face, she proclaimed in a high, breathy voice, "Why, you absolutely _must_ be the captain of this fine ship. Care to treat me to a drink at the tavern? Or if ye like we could skip that and go right upstairs..."

More put on edge by the woman's fawning than anything else, the boy stumbled out of reach of her toying fingers and nearly fell back off the pier.

"Me? I... uh, well, no..." At eighteen years old, dressed in a fraying brown shirt and leggings, and still very much a stranger to sea travel, (he had nearly fallen when he'd stepped onto the wooden dock for sheer relief of the sight of dry land) he couldn't imagine how this woman could have mistaken him for a captain. She didn't seem put off by his stammering refusal, however, and opened her full, bright lips to speak again.

Then the unmistakable growl of the real captain came to his rescue.

"No taking advantage, Isobel, dear. This is the boy's first trip to Tortuga."

Captain Sly was a grizzled, age-spotted man with a beard that bushed over his face like a great, gray mask. His arms, speckled with thin, white scars from over twenty years worth of adventures, starting back with what he spoke of reverently as the Pirate War, were covered in a water-spotted shirt of blue Chinese silk. The glistening silver scabbard at his waist and the extravagantly plumed hat atop his head spoke of his wealth and success as a runner of illegal goods from Asia to the Caribbean islands.

The woman's smile turned into a pout as she moved her attention to the older man.

"Well, new just means he deserves a proper welcome, don't it?"

When she looked back to the boy her voice changed to a coo. "What's your name then, sweet thing?"

He shot a wary glance to the captain. He had been warned against using his surname while at sea.

"William... Swann." The older man gave him an approving nod behind Isobel's back.

"Swann, eh? Sweet name for a sweet thing. Well, William, before ye dive headfirst into the grand world of piracy, I find it me duty to warn ye, it's not all fun and adventure like the stories. Me fiancé went piratin' to get money for the wedding. He's down in Turner's locker now. And me daddy got done in too. Bit up by a three headed shark while sailing on Sparrow's very ship during the Pirate War. Or so me mum said, anyway."

William fought to hide a smile. The fate of Isobel's loved ones was truly tragic, but of all the variations he had heard of the great battle (and his uncle Jack had told a fair few, himself), he had never once heard of three headed sharks entering the fray.

"I'm sorry for your losses," he murmured sincerely. The woman shrugged, waving her fan dismissively.

"Nothing to get teary over, love. Me mum raised me fair enough. It's you I've got ta worry about. Not many faces pretty as yours in the Caribbean, and if you keep on like this you'll end up in the locker or, worse yet, looking like him."

At the end of her sentence she snapped her fan shut and pointed, scowling, at Sly. William smiled.

"Well, I can only hope to be so lucky."

With that he swept past Isobel and headed toward the taverns- the heart of Tortuga and the best place in the Caribbean to find information you wouldn't hear anywhere else. Sly caught up to William as he cleared the edge of the docks, pounding his shoulder with a casual ease that suggested either that William was too soft or Sly's hands far too calloused.

"So, boy. You mean to go on with your plan, then?"

William smiled wryly.

"Had you expected me to change my mind?"

"No. Well..." Sly chuckled and shrugged. "I always did have hope. You're a good hand, if a bit green. I wouldn't mind keeping you aboard for my trip to China. The opium trade's rich there, boy. You'd come back dripping diamonds, enough to support you and whatever girl catches your fancy for a decade. And that Mother of your'n as well."

William stopped walking and turned to face the captain, frowning.

"My mother doesn't need money from me, Captain. She doesn't need anything I can offer. You should know that."

"Well, I do. As far as it goes, anyway. Your mother's famous amongst us, William. Nearly so much as your father. Practically a legend, the first Pirate King in over a century. But she's still a woman, and there isn't a woman, living nor dead, who wants her son far away and off in danger. Will," the man grasped out for William's shoulder suddenly, brown eyes soft and crinkled with concern. He looked as kindly grandfather might.

Not, thought William with surprising bitterness, that he had much experience with grandfathers.

"This idea you've got," Sly continued, "it's insanity. It's a plan worthy of Jack Sparrow, and most of us haven't got that man's luck. Your mother would never-"

"Do not speak of my mother's wishes as though you know her, Captain Sly," William snapped, weary of lectures. "She is nothing more than a mythical figure to you. Like the Kraken, or Sirens, or a three-headed shark. Do not presume to tell me what she would say or how she would feel. And," he quieted suddenly, his anger having run its course, but there was still a look of distaste on his features that refused to fully fade. "It's William. Just... William."

Sly frowned, and released his grip on the boy's shoulder.

"You're right and I've never met your mother myself, or your father and bless Calypso for that. But he's a great man, Will Turner. Saved us all from the terror of Davy Jones and the East India Trade. You should be proud to share his name."

"So I've heard." With a sigh the younger man turned his gaze to the sea, defiantly gazing over the domain his estranged father had taking to haunting ever since his death nineteen years before. When he turned back, however, the anger in his eyes had faded, and a genuine smile had replaced it.

"In any case, I thank you for taking me this far, Captain. You have been most generous with your ship and your time. I know this was out of your way."

"No more'n a day," the Captain said dismissively. He did not appear entirely placated. "But I'm not sure I should've done it in any case. William, you're asking to be left in Tortuga armed with naught more than a sword and your parents' names to protect you. And I wouldn't count on those, either. Famous, your family might be here, but there are those that will sell you out for just a taste of that glory reflected on them."

"I have heard this all before, Captain."

"And you'll hear it again! Damned, I'll be, if I let the son of Will and Elizabeth Turner stumble off blindly to his death in a dark alley in Tortuga."

"I am more than just my parents' child, Captain Sly. Please, you have no cause to worry. I did not simply wake up one morning and decide to undertake this journey. I know what I am doing."

"You'd better," the Captain grumbled. "Sea witches, I ask you... wild children these days. Wild plans..."

"Go," William laughed, regarding the man fondly. "Adventure in Asia. Become fabulously wealthy, and when you return we will have many tales of adventures to share."

The man smiled wearily.

"Wild plans," he repeated, and pounded William's shoulder fondly, so firmly the young man was sure he would bruise. "We'll have plenty enough, I'm sure. Well, no sense in setting off right away. The Stallion's getting restocked as we speak and we'll set off shortly after dawn's light. If you change your mind and decide you just want a good thrill of piracy..."

"Then I will know where to find you. Thank you, Captain."

"It's been an honor to serve," the Captain flashed a rakish grin, and William shook his head, thinking to Isobel's smirking dismissal of the older man. He might not have been young, but it was clear he had once been quite handsome. "And may the winds be with you, William."

With that the Captain turned and strode down the cobbled path back toward the docks. William watched him go, feeling a strange sense of loss. The journey from Port Royale to Tortuga had barely taken two weeks, but it had been a hard trek, as they had traveled under the path of a long and grueling storm. The hard work and constant danger had created a sense of kinship between William and the rest of the crew- a connection he had rarely felt with any of the aristocrat boys and girls he had known growing up at Port Royale.

He was sorry to see the Stallion go, but glad at the same time to part ways with the kindly Captain before he set off on the more perilous portion of his quest.

Which, with any good fortune, would begin this very night.

TBC

A/N: Ok, so after I wrote this I realized that the Opium trade probably wasn't going on the same time as Pirates, but since I don't particularly know when Pirates takes place and it's not a huge part of the plot so I decided to leave it in. This is my first time in the Pirates fandom, and I'm not sure how I am at it so please give me all kinds of constructive feedback!! see you soon (if anyone responds.)


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks so much for the reviews! You should be happy to hear that as of last night I actually know where I'm going with this story. lol, before this I just pretty much had a dangling beginning teaser, but now I've got it all planned out. Which means I'll probably finish it! Yay!

SD: thanks for PM. I get kind of crazy over bitty details like that. Like, I just figured out that in clear weather it would really only take two to three days to travel from Port Royal to Tortuga, which made me want to go back and change what I said in chapter one about the trip taking nearly two weeks. But then I figured, hey, it was stormy. That could have slowed them down. ... a lot... ;p

Chapter Two

William was completely lost within minutes. He had heard of this town countless times since he was a child- it was the centerfold for nearly every one of his uncle Jack's tales- and William had foolishly come to believe that he had actually come to know it. More careful recollection revealed that this was far from the case. Jack's flowery descriptions had always been a bit fuzzy when it came to details such as directions. William had never been bothered as a child, but now he was frustrated that he hadn't pushed for more specific information.

_"And then I hopped of me Pearl and popped into the tavern..."_

He had made it sound as though it were right at the edge of the pier, but William had not seen any signs proclaiming what Jack had always steadfastly asserted to be the ninth wonder of the world (his Pearl, of course, being the eighth).

Finally, William came upon a pair of men with gray hair, long beards, and faces turned to leather from years of hard work in the sun. Laughing through cracked teeth, they strode down the cobbled road, talking about the drinks they were hoping to collect on from the tavern, from a bet they had won earlier that day.

William, smiling at his good fortune, turned to follow the pair back toward the docks and, hopefully, Jack's fabled tavern. If there was more than one tavern in town then William might be in trouble. His intended contact was only ever seen within the walls of the Crow's Nest... or so Jack had implied on his last visit the summer before. William could only hope that the situation had not changed in the past seven months.

So caught up was William in his contemplation and worry that he thought nothing of it when he followed the pair of suddenly much quieter sailors around a corner and into a very questionable looking alley. The buildings rose up high on either side of William, and were positioned so close together that only a hint of starlight could find its way down.

William only had a moment to marvel that anyone at all could find his way to the tavern surely hidden back here, before he felt the touch of icy metal against his throat. He took in a sharp breath, thought momentarily of darting back, out of reach, but decided against taking the risk. Instead, he lifted his hands and offered softly, "Please, I have very little money, and nothing of true worth."

This was not entirely true; he had enough money to provide him a bed for several days, and some jewels and trinkets, besides, to barter for information and fair passage on a ship out of Tortuga once he had a destination in mind. Still, his mother had always taught him that honesty was not nearly so important as security, and there would be no point in losing his possessions now if he could possibly avoid it.

"I have not seen your faces," he continued, "nor any other way of identifying you. If you walk away now-"

"Not seen our faces, eh?" A voice cackled from somewhere off to William's left. His eyes darted wildly in that direction, but all he could make out was a darker shadow amongst shadows. "Our faces are what ye've been following for three streets now, and it won't do any of us good for you to deny it."

A second voice sounded, sharp and angry, from a place slightly behind the first.

"Who sent you after us? Splinter? Don't tell us he's that sore over losing a simple wager."

William realized suddenly that the voices of these two matched those of the men he had been following to the tavern.

"I am sorry," he breathed, heart pounding. He had been so foolish to openly follow them in such a way. He had always known that pirates were an untrusting lot, and yet now, when it counted, he had completely forgotten such common knowledge. "This is a terrible misunderstanding. I haven't been sent after you..." The metal pressed more firmly into his throat, and William silenced, wincing.

"Didn't I tell ye it'd be no good denying it, whelp?"

"I..." William stopped abruptly. It was painful to speak. He wanted to arch his neck back to lessen the pressure against his throat, but was sure that the stranger would feel no qualms about striking if he sensed William making any movement to escape. He could not speak, he could not move... he had no idea what he _could _do.

In his mind's eye William saw a flash of what his uncle Jack might have done in this situation: smiling, lifting his hands innocently, and distracting the men with a long and winding explanation for his presence there until he had worked his way past their blades and suspicions.

_"You see, mates, I was just working me way down to the Crow's Nest, honest and proper, when I saw you fine lads on your way to the very same place. I was only just hoping to include you in me most recent business endeavor- I've been looking for a few more strapping young men to add to me crew, see, and you seem just the proper sort..."_

His mother would have no trouble getting out of this situation as well. Raising her hands, she would stammer her innocence in the likeness of a woman far less daring than she was.

_"Please, please don't hurt me. I only came here to deliver this, from a mutual friend." _She would lower a hand slowly to her pocket and draw out an ordinary handkerchief, which she would then hold out to the men, visibly trembling. When they took it and switched their attentions that way, believing a message of some sort to be scrawled inside, she would draw out her cutlass and strike.

And then a third image appeared in William's mind- old and faded- of a man he had only seen once before in his life. A man who was tall and well built from years of constant exertion at the forge and with a blade. A man whose eyes could burn with an angry passion so terrible as to make any opponent quail and surrender (or so Jack said). The finest swordsman throughout the seven seas, Will Turner, doubtless, would have no need of words or trickery to best these two old men. He would draw out his blade, with the swiftness of the very wind, and bat their swords to the ground with practiced ease. Then he would press his metal to their throats, a bold reversal of fortune, and politely request that they point out the location of the tavern.

William's jaw tightened at the image. Will Turner would think these men nothing more than a joke, while William could not imagine a scenario where he escaped their clutches alive.

And then a sudden glow from behind him lit the alley, making his aggressors wince at the sudden brightness in their eyes. By the time William thought to take advantage of their blindness, however, they had recovered.

The man holding the sword to William's throat- whom, William could now see, had a face riddled with scars under his long, gray beard- snarled, "Who's there?"

The last voice William had imagined coming to his rescue responded from the alley's entrance.

"Someone who's got an interest in preserving that sweet face ye've been threatening."

William's eyes widened and, not daring to turn from Scar-face and his companion, he breathed, "Isobel, what are you doing? It's not safe here."

"That's what I should be telling you, sweet thing." Then her voice turned stern. "Harry Welles, Alexander Dobson." Both men started. "Ye used to be fearsome pirates, renowned across the Spanish Main, if old stories can be believed. Now ye amuse yerselves by threatening innocent boys in dark alleys." She tutted. "Time wore away at ye, like great rocks in the sea, slowly eaten up by the waters until ye're nought more'n shapeless pebbles."

Both men gaped at the woman, shocked into speechlessness. William held his breath, hoping that Isobel's words had not antagonized them so much that they would decide to simply kill him for the sake of it.

Finally Scar-face (Harry?) sputtered, "No one's called us by those names in ages. What kind of a witch are ye?"

A high, incredulous laugh came from Isobel then, and she responded lightly, "The kind that'll lay a hex on ye so fast ye won't see it coming if ye don't do what I'm asking. The boy followed ye by honest mistake, and there's no point in starting a whole mess of trouble over that. Now go."

Harry glanced to his companion, who was white faced and wide eyed, then took a step away.

"An honest mistake," he echoed, then scowled at William. "If we see ye behind us again ye won't get off so easy, boy." Then they both departed at a quick pace from the alley, their swords both still drawn. William waited until they had disappeared around the far corner and then turned to face Isobel.

She seemed to glow from the reflected light of the lantern she carried, her golden hair tinged with waves of wild orange, and her scarlet dress appeared dyed with blood. When her brown eyes caught the firelight they lit with and ethereal yellow glow. She looked just like a witch in every way that William had ever dared to imagine, but then she smiled, and the shiver threatening to race along his spine vanished.

"Isobel." He shook his head, smiling, shocked at how very pleased he was so see her again. "That was amazing."

"Oh, it wasn't so much as all that." She shrugged with the casual air of one who regularly spent her nights chasing armed men out of dark alleys. "Just keep yer eyes and ears open in a place like this, and ye're bound to come up with enough background on most of the regulars to throw them for a loop in a pinch." Grinning, she added, "Most pirates, see, they're a bit more superstitious than ye'd expect. All too eager to explain simple things away as being from ghosts or witches."

"Well, whatever it was, thank you." William moved forward, back out of the alley and onto a wide, cobbled street. "And, not to sound ungrateful, but what are you doing here?"

"What, ye thought I'd let ye wander all on yer lonesome like a little lost lamb? I could tell from the very first I saw ye that ye'd fall apart alone in a place like this. Ye were raised proper, up in a sparkling castle, away from the dangers lurking in dark corners."

William scowled.

"I most certainly was not."

He had been raised by the pirate king, after all, and had grown up enjoying regular visits from her "subjects." Along with lessons from school books on British history he had learned young how to properly swing a sword and fire a pistol, and even though he had never actually engaged in any sort of illicit activity before now, he was hardly as ignorant to the prospect as Isobel seemed to think.

If he had expected his indignant response to quiet her, however, he was to be sorely disappointed. The woman nearly doubled up with laughter, shaking her head so that her golden ringlets bobbed around her face.

William, despite his offense, suddenly realized just what a pretty face it was. The rouged cheeks and lips had distracted him from it at first- young and curved in the semblance of a heart, with a small, rounded nose that was dotted with freckles. She was younger than her clothes and makeup made her appear.

"See?" she announced, gleefully, "Even how ye talk gives ye away. 'I most certainly was not.' Like ye're a little prince, raised in a golden cradle."

A faint blush heated William's cheeks, and he could only hope that the firelight hid it.

Did he truly sound so strange? William's grandfather, on his mother's side, had been a governor- a man of very high social class. His daughter had drifted away from that social order as soon as she had reached adulthood, but her pattern of speech and mannerisms had always remained at the class to which she had been bred. William was, in that regard, very much his mother's son.

"Well," not knowing how to respond to such insinuations, William decided to ignore them entirely. "I thank you again for your attentiveness, Isobel, and for your concern. Now, if you could kindly point me in the direction of the Crow's Nest Tavern..."

The young woman frowned, free hand falling to her hip.

"Ain't nothing for one like ye in a place like that, sweet thing. The only crow's nest ye should be looking at is the one on that fancy ship ye rode in on."

William's polite facade dissipated in rush of open hostility. However grateful he was for Isobel's assistance, his pride could only take so many attacks in one night.

"And what interest, Miss, do you have in my well being, anyway?"

The girl smiled, unfazed.

"Nothing more'n I said before. It'd be a shame for a face like that to get slashed up. What's so important that's got ye all excited to get yerself chopped to bits, anyway?"

William shook his head, trying to dispell his frustration. A pair of women, as gaudily made up as Isobel, though at least a decade older, gave William appraising looks as they walked by. Not a single face that he saw looked remotely friendly, save Isobel's, and he was not going to find his way to the Crow's Nest without help. For the moment, at least, he needed her.

"If I tell you my reasons will you promise to take me there?" She nodded, watching him attentively. He sighed. "Alright, then.

"My father is away at sea, Isobel, and he has been for a long time. There are impossible circumstances keeping him there, and I am here in search of someone who might be able to help free him from those bonds. I have to find him, and find a way to bring him home with me. I am afraid if I don't, my mother is going to die."

TBC


End file.
